


Refusal of the call (if it would come)

by ivyfernleaflet



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, POV Declan Lynch, Post-Canon, check author notes for trigger warnings, past declansey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfernleaflet/pseuds/ivyfernleaflet
Summary: Declan's life is (as) non-eventful (as possible) by design.  Designs must be maintained, and he is perfectly fine with that.[non-canonical according to cdth. a standalone declan character study synthesized from an abandoned / discontinued fic idea.]
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Refusal of the call (if it would come)

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer: this creator has no problem with exploring problematic, objectionable, and obscene content in fiction and ships, and has done so in the past in fanworks (and will likely do so in the future, as well). if interacting with an individual who writes the aforementioned will inspire vehement response, then here is your warning. if my nsfw and/or obscene works discredit my other works in your eyes, please feel free to disengage as needed.**  
>   
>  I wrote this a while before ‘call down the hawk’ came out and have come to terms with the fact that I will never write the longer story I originally conceived it as, which was why I kept sitting on it. But since Declan has been my favorite Lynch brother / trc character for a while, I figured it deserved to see the light of day, and I offer it up as a meager standalone. Er, irrelevant, but I still can’t shake the internal headcanon of the Lynch family as black, so there’s also that.
> 
> Anyway, **warnings** for: **1)** mentions of past Declan/Gansey, and **2)** a vague abstract and non-explicit scene hinting at sexual abuse and non-con (because the intended crux of the plot was, “once, and only once, Niall brought a client a nightmare creature and gave in when said client demanded it have sex with Declan, who was ~9-12 at the time; this repressed memory is cropping back up in Declan's sophomore year of college, and he’s going to have to start dealing with it”). I used 'chose not to use archive warnings' (which means 'there's something possibly triggering here, and you are taking a gamble with this story' in my eyes) because that particular detail is vague, only discernible explicitly because I'm telling you right now, and does not develop in any way in the context of this drabble.
> 
> This fic, as is, goes nowhere and is utterly jossed by cdth, etc etc.
> 
> \-- 🍃

Hot, muggy breath. The beast did not roar, but rather it creaked. Like old antique oak. Like the floors of the Barns in the winter, the wood contracting and warping from the cold, its moisture freezing only to melt partway anew.

There was the curl of claws, and yet no imprint was left behind on Declan's skin.

Niall, his own father, the very orchestrator of it all, had turned his back to the ordeal. He was hovering just close enough to intervene, if something went wrong -- or, that was how Declan had thought of it at the time. If only to have that small kindness from Niall. If only to have that barest token of fatherly love -- or concern -- or something. Fatherly anything.

The client had surveyed diligently, pacing the room to stand and observe from every angle, a restless bustle of energy and movement as he looked on at his wares (Declan strangely included as such, however momentary -- and yes, this was only a moment, one moment and then another and another and _breathe, boy_ \-- ).

Somehow, that was notable in Declan’s mind: the way the client was intense as he observed his deal come to life. The night was dark and long, yet Declan had sworn to himself not to cry when the beast first loomed over them, freshly lumbered into reality, foreign and strange and nightmarish. No, wrong -- not nightmarish but a nightmare. A true nightmare, dark and endless and bloodthirsty, come to life.

It loomed now, and Declan remembered and remembered and remembered.

* * *

Declan had been late to his macro-econ theories class. He'd woken up in a foul mood, unsettled from a bad dream that had apparently carried him straight through his alarms. It was unlike him, and it’d made him late to class. There'd been a pop quiz at the start of it that Declan wasn't going to be allowed to make up. Today was already feeling like one of those kinds of days, and he was already weary of it.

Declan sighed and sipped at the dining hall coffee he'd snagged to drink on the go. There wasn't enough time to walk three blocks over to a better cafe, which was sure to be packed now, at mid-morning, with interns making coffee runs for politicians and NGO meetings and think tank big wigs. It was also in the opposite direction of the academic hall where Declan had diplomacy politics in twenty minutes, and wasn’t conducive to him being on time. Still, he walked and tried to collect his thoughts, tried to enjoy his coffee, subpar as it might have been.

"Yo, Big Lynch on campus!"

Declan blinked, a mouth full of hot coffee, and looked up at the sound of the approximation of his name. He blinked again because -- oh. Wasn't that Gansey's new boy? Gansey, who apparently was starting up a collection, between Ronan and Blue. Declan hadn't figured out how Adam worked into the equation of the Gansey hoard, not precisely. He knew Ronan had staked a claim there, and that whenever Adam was in Virginia he was holed up at the Barns. Ronan, Declan knew from extensive firsthand experience, was horrible at sharing -- but maybe they were all dating each other. Declan wasn't quite sure. Something about that had the possibility to sting, so Declan always made sure to quickly move on from it.

But even without the connection of Gansey, this was a boy Declan would know effortlessly. "Henry," he said simply in greeting. Seondeok's son cropping up in D.C. all of a sudden could mean a lot. It could almost certainly mean that Declan's day was now officially a wash.

"Hey-o," Henry said cheerfully. "Whatcha doing so close to the metro? Headed towards Capitol Hill or some other such prestigious place?"

There were metro stops all over D.C., so the question was both logical and absurd -- it was _where are you going?_ mixed with _I’m guessing you’re in transit right now?_ and then undercut by how everything didn’t always need to have a deeper meaning. Sometimes, an undergrad student walking an intersection away from a metro stop was just a poli sci sophomore trying to make it to class.

If nothing else, the comment was presumptuous. And Declan could work with presumptuous. "I’m heading to class. Just happened to be passing by. Can I help you?"

Declan wasn't trying to be cold, but he was trying to be efficient. Henry picked up on this, and he laughed. "Oh, no no, don't worry, I _am_ running some errands for my mom -- why the hell else would I be in D.C., you know? -- but they have nothing to do with you."

Declan didn't believe it, but it would be rude to say so. "Alright? Well?"

Henry only shrugged. "Ah. Hm. You know." He grinned again. "Gansey'll love to know that I laid eyes on you. Saw you were okay."

Declan's heart stuttered for a moment, but then he remembered to cut that out. He and Gansey were such ancient history that it was laughable. Gansey had Declan's brother. Gansey had his own special girl, Blue. Gansey maybe had Adam, and most definitely had Henry Cheng. Why would he even care about Declan by this point -- 

Declan shook his head to clear his thoughts. He and Gansey were ancient history, he reminded himself. Were only ever defined by a stolen kiss or two back when they were barely teens. By a hidden and quiet and brief two-way infatuation before the Lynch family as they both knew it fell apart. There had been sides to pick back then, and Gansey had chosen Ronan's. And Declan had never faulted him for it. Instead, he'd encouraged it.

"Great to know,” Declan allowed himself to say, intentionally dry and detached. “And with that exciting tidbit to ruminate on, I'm off to diplomacy policy. You can give Gansey my regards."

Henry hummed in thought, giving Declan a once-over but ultimately shrugging again, a full bodied yet weightless gesture, bigger than life but not rubbing Declan’s face in it. "Will do. See you around."

They parted on a wave, Declan’s a mere lifting of his hand and Henry’s a playful two-fingered salute. _See you around,_ huh? Declan didn’t necessarily hope for or against it, but overall it seemed pretty unlikely.

He took another sip of mediocre coffee, and pondered over the way the day felt a little less dreadful-in-the-making now. Logical and absurd, Declan thought to himself, half-amused by it -- but truly, everything didn’t always need to have a deeper meaning. It didn’t. And sometimes a lonely young man was just a lonely young man, both by choice and by circumstance.

It really _was_ logical and absurd, and Declan took another sip as he stopped at a red crosswalk and refocused on his internal timetable. Class was in fourteen minutes.


End file.
